Soul to Squeeze
by only-because3
Summary: She laughs harshly because she knows there will be nights filled with tears and heart wrenching sobs and screams that'll make her neighbors think she's being murdered before there is one solid morning of something stable, something more than this
1. Chapter 1

I shouldn't be starting another story when others need to be written and updated but I was bored, wrote some drabble and I think figured out a plot. Hopefully this story will be short but who knows? Not too sure when I'll update again, but just remember I never start a story I don't intend to finish and soon this storyline will probably consume my mind lol. So, this is just a short little intro I suppose. Hope y'all enjoy!

She sits, legs bent and crossed in the window sill, running one hand through her greasy tangled hair, the other clutching a cigarette between her fingers. She wants to leave, get out of this apartment and this god damn city. Her fingers move to the cross that lays against her bare chest, outlining it softly. Ever since she moved to this city, she's attended church regularly, why she has almost no clue and it doesn't seem to help. But it seems like the only thing left that can give her some sort of hope.

"I gotta go." She nods mindlessly, bringing the cigarette to her lips and inhaling deeply, closing her eyes and enjoying the release. He leaves, giving her an empty kiss in her hair before turning with his jacket in hand and going out the door. That's when the tears come, because she knows it has to stop. She has to leave because she can't be by him, not now, not for a while.

Tonight, she'll pack basics, and then go to St. Patrick's in the morning and speak to Father John, trying once more to seek some sort of advice that she probably wont take and instead fly to Milan to meet her mother. The boy that's been consuming her free time will be a distant memory and everything she's screwed up will be fixed.

She takes one last drag on her cigarette before stubbing it out, the glowing embers burning her white window sill slightly, leaving an everlasting mark on the wood.

The last time she went to mass, the Father giving the sermon said that 'weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning'. She laughs harshly because she knows there will be nights filled with tears and heart wrenching sobs and screams that'll make her neighbors think she's being murdered before there is one solid morning of something good, something stable, something more than _this_.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey all! Thank you so much for the reviews! I expect this story to be shortish and I'm not too sure how I feel about this chapter and the way I've written it. :sigh: Oh well. Hope this makes things a bit clearer. Enjoy!

_Two Years Ago_

Brooke Davis walks down the busy streets of New York City, trying with all her might to make it to her lunch date on time for once. Victoria wouldn't let her leave the house before she delivered thirty sketches for the upcoming fall line, taking up a good twenty minutes out of the thirty she had to travel to get to the small restaurant. She glances down at her cell phone in her hand and lets out an aggravated sigh. Ten minutes late.

She moves her purse higher up on her arm as she pushes through the crowded sidewalk, thanking god she left the house in flats. Her feet were beginning to hurt already and the late summer heat was making the walk even more unbearable than it already was. Finally she sees the sign dangling from above the door and lets out a sigh of relief. She squeezes in to the small cafe, the cool air hitting her sweaty skin as she looks around for the familiar blonde head of hair.

She mumbles apologies as she kisses the side of this head before slipping into the chair across from him. "It's okay. I'm just glad your crazy mother let you leave the house," he responds with a laugh as the waitress walks by, setting down the drinks that Lucas has already ordered for them. Ever since he moved into the city four months ago, they've made it a habit to hang out whenever they could so the big bad city seemed a little less lonely.

"Tell me about it. She insisted I get thirty sketches done before I left. I swear, that woman is a Nazi," she laughs before sipping the ice tea that has been set in front of her. They talk for hours, even after they finish the food they ordered, talk about work and home and their week. Talk about how their dreams have finally come true and that it's not all that it was envisioned to be.

"Are you sure she's not gonna lock you in the dungeon tonight," he jokes and she rolls her eyes before shrugging. She wouldn't put it past her mother to lock her up just so she can be 110 percent devoted to her work.

"I'm gonna make it to the dinner. I promise." She'll have to tell Victoria that, no, she refuses to go to another premiere with some stupid model she's hired, and be yelled at but it'll all be worth it. Hanging out with Lucas and saving him for potentially boring business men who want to chat about everything but his book will be a better way to spend her time.

She glances over at the wall clock and mumbles 'Shit', before getting up. She's spent way too much time here and she knows Victoria is probably flipping out. She motions to pull out her wallet but he shakes his head, standing up with her. "I told you this lunch was my treat," he says, throwing a twenty down on the table.

"It's _always_ your treat," she reminds him and he shrugs. "You should at least let me pay half."

"Don't be ridiculous. Besides, you're going to me with tonight. There's how you can pay me back."

She laughs as they walk back into the hot and sticky world. "I'd go with you any way." She wipes the sweat already forming on her brow away before hugging him. "Thank you. I'll see you later."

_Present Time_

Brooke sits uncomfortably in the airport, waiting for her plane to board and she taps her foot nervously. Lucas has called her a few times already and she hasn't had a cigarette since last night. She looks around and wonders if there's a smoking area. She doubts it but her stomach is killing her and she wants one _oh so badly_. But she refuses to let herself have, hates herself for smoking that one last night and instead takes out another piece of gum from her purse and closes her eyes. She could do this, it'd be fine.

The flight attendant alerts her that first class was now boarding and she gets up, grabbing her purse and carry on before looking at her phone once more. Another call from Lucas. They were supposed to have breakfast.

She turns the phone off before heading to the terminal.

_Two Years Ago_

She moves about her apartment frantically searching for the shoes she intended to wear to Lucas' dinner. They weren't in her closet, nor were they anywhere in her room, and she half thinks that maybe Rachel took them when she sees her mother standing in her living room, the shoes hanging for her fingers. "Looking for these?" She hates her mother's voice she truly does.

"Yes, I am." She walks up, tries to grab them but naturally, her mother moves them back, shaking her head in that disappointed manner.

"You have a premiere to attend tonight Brooke. Are you going to the premiere?" She could easily lie and say yes. Her dress is fancy enough and she's all done up but some how she feels as though her mother already knows. And if she's caught in a lie Victoria Davis' wrath could potentially reach Hitler level. She begins to open her mouth but Victoria shakes her head again. "You _are_ going to the premiere tonight. I have a date for you in the car and I'll be going with you as always."

Her shoulders slump and Victoria immediately lectures her on posture and Brooke simply turns around and walks back into her room. "I have gone to too many premieres to remember this past year," she shouts, reaching into her closet and slipping on the simplest red heels she could find. She grabs her purse and enters the living room once more, not once looking at her mother. "I am going to my friend's congratulatory dinner. _Please_ don't be here when I get back."

She slams the door behind her and pauses, stunned at herself for telling off her mother. It felt good. It also made her feel like she was going to throw up.

* * *

She's late again but it's okay, because she looks so god damn beautiful that he honestly thinks the world would bow down to her. "I just told off my mom," she says immediately, not even letting him get out a 'hello'. "I am going to be in _so_ much _shit_."

He laughs and just hugs her, tells her she looks beautiful and she blushes slightly. "You'll be fine... and if not, you'll at least have alcohol in you."

They make their way through the party, talking to numerous men and women about Lucas' novel and life and who exactly she was and revealing their shock when they realize she's Brooke Davis from the book and they never would've made the connection to Clothes Over Bros. At some point, Lucas is torn away from her side and she's forced to mingle alone, something she's always hated. An old man who reminds her of her father has been talking to her for the past twenty minutes about _rice_ and she has to excuse herself before she screams.

She walks over to one of the many windows, holding her champagne glass as she looks out at all the city lights. It's beautiful and even though no stars are visible, there's millions of 'stars' on the buildings surrounding her.

He watches her from across the room, her black dress with the plunging back reveal her shoulder blades and soft pale skin. Her silver necklace is visible due to her upswept hair and he smiles at the old high school item. She looks bored and lonely and even though he's actually talking business, he walks away and over to her.

"You ready to go," he asks, placing a hand on the small of her back and she turns to look at him, surprised by his presence.

She smiles and glances back out at the illuminated city before looking back at him. "Don't you have to stay longer?" He shakes his head and tells her they can leave. He offers his spare bedroom, knowing she doesn't want to be around Victoria after what's happened.

"Can we watch Weird Science," she asks as they step into their taxi and he laughs.

_Present Time_

She walks into the London airport and glances at her next ticket to see which gate she had to go to next. She grumbles when she realizes it's on the other side of the airport and there's a two hour layover. SHe makes her way to a row of seats and sits down, taking out her phone and turning it on. A billion voice mails, a million texts from Lucas, a billion and one calls from her mother. She turns her phone off once more, tired of technology and traveling and _everything_. She doesn't want to go meet up with her mother and she doesn't want to talk to Lucas.

She looks up and sees an advertisement for Eurostar and suddenly, a whole new idea creeps into her mind.

_Two Years Ago_

They sit next to one another on his couch, both switching into tank tops and shorts, Brooke of course wearing some of his. Victoria called her a million and one times before Brooke finally through her phone out the window. They ordered Chinese and pigged out and now Weird Science was coming to an end. She gets up and goes over to his open window and sits in front of it, taking a cigarette out of her pack and placing it between her lips. "Why'd you start?"

"I've been seeing my mother everyday for the past year. You're lucky I'm not an alcoholic," she says, almost jokingly but he knows it's the truth. She's almost positive he doesn't like it and she tries to keep it down to a minimum when they're together but she can't help it.

He gets up and begins cleaning up the takeout boxes that litter his coffee table when his phone rings. She looks at him quizzically once he picks up, his answers to the person on the other line short and jumbled. He keeps glancing over at her and when he finally turns around, she raises an eyebrow in question, tossing her half smoked cigarette out of the window. He hangs up just as she walks up and she places her hands on her hips. "Who was that?"

He shrugs. "No one important." She doesn't move, just stares him down and he starts fidgeting uncomfortably before sighing. "Fine, it was an old... girl." He searches for the word but realizes there is none and it only confuses Brooke more.

"Old girlfriend?" He shakes his head. " Old friend?" Same response comes from the blonde and that's when it clicks. She starts laughing and turns around, falling back on to the couch. "So what was that a booty call?"

"Shut up," he grumbles, shoving her when he sits down on the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping through channels.

"Well, _thank you_ for spending time with me instead of going and getting laid," she replies, stretching her legs out on to his lap.

"She's to possessive," he replies before adding, "and I'd hope you do the same for me."

She laughs once more. "The world's best birth control is Victoria Davis. If someone calls me while I'm out with you to have sex, I'm ditching your ass in a second." He looks at her, practically pouting and she pats his cheek. "I haven't gotten in over a year. Sorry buddy."

"We could fix that," he says, running his hand up her naked legs teasingly and she smacks his hand away as he laughs.

"That's not funny," she responds before taking a deep breath. That was always the problem when she hung out with Lucas while slightly horny. Thoughts would run rampant in her mind, thought of when they were together in high school and she has to remind herself that they're just friends and she just hasn't gotten any in a while.

There's nothing on TV and she decides to go to sleep. She gets up and the two share a quick peck, like always, before she goes into the spare room she sleeps in whenever Victoria pushes her to her breaking point.

She tosses and turns above the sheets and the god awful heat is sweating her out of the room. She curses Lucas for not investing in a fan at the very least and gets up and walks into the living room, finding that Lucas has gone to bed himself. Without hesitation, Brooke walks into his room and lets out a huge sigh of relief when she notices the air conditioner he propped into the window. "You are so stingy Lucas," she says as she climbs into the bed next to him.

"Excuse me?"

"At least get a fan for your guests. Your apartment is a sweat box." He laughs and scoots over making room for the active brunette. He asks if that's all and she shakes her head. "I can't sleep. You should entertain me."

_Present Time_

Brooke jerks awake, blinking and rubbing her cheek as she realizes she's on the train. God she hates remembering that night. To this day she doesn't even know how it happened. One minute they were talking the next his hands were on her body and his lips on hers. God she was so stupid. How could she let herself get into that position _again_. She unbuckles her seat belt angrily and grabs her purse before making her way to the bathroom. She needs to throw up.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey everyone! Thank you SO much for the reviews! Thanks to Mer for reading over this chapter for me and I hope y'all enjoy!

_Two Years Ago_

Lucas rolls over his, arm landing on Brooke's waist and he mumbles a 'Sorry'.

"What time is it," she asks hoarsely, not opening her eyes. He doesn't say anything, just makes a half hearted attempt at a shrug and she grumbles. "I have to get up."

"It's too early," he responds. Brooke had kept him up to nearly four talking until...

_Oh shit._

"Ohmigod." His eyes still aren't open but he thinks Brooke's just figured it out too. He opens one eye and sees Brooke grabbing for the sheet that had been pushed to the end of the bed, her naked form outlined by the light spilling into the room. Next thing he knows, Brooke hits his arm before leaning against his head board. "What the fuck Lucas!"

"Are you blaming this on me," he asks, sitting up himself, grabbing his pillow to place over his lap since Brooke had taken all the sheets. She nods with certainty and his mouth drops open in shock. "You're the one that came into my room!"

"Because you refuse to let anyone else have the nice cool air," she retorts and he rolls his eyes.

"I was ready to go back to sleep when you came in here." She opens her mouth, ready to respond but he beats her to it. "And, if I do remember correctly, you kissed me first."

She lets out an aggravated groan before pouting. "But you teased me! Both on the couch _and_ right before I kissed you. You ran your hand up my leg and then you practically groped me!" She looks over at him and notices the small smile he was trying to hide. "You're such an ass!" She shoves him and he just laughs.

"You know you liked it."

She looks away. "That's besides the point." She twists her hair into a knot and sighs. "So what is this?"

"What do you want this to be?" They lock eyes and suddenly Brooke isn't too sure.

"I don't have time for anything. _We_ don't have time for anything. You're always making rewrites or promoting. Victoria keeps me on a short leash... it couldn't work."

He nods in agreement. "So, this was just a one time thing?" She stays quiet for a moment, processing everything. She couldn't date Lucas again. Timing wasn't right and honestly, she couldn't add a boyfriend to her already hectic life. But, god, if last night wasn't the best night she had in a long time. She finally felt _good_ again.

"Last night was good right?" He nods wearily, unsure of where his ex girlfriend was going with this. "So what would be the harm if we occasionally do it again?"

His brow furrows and she shrugs innocently. "Like... benefiting?" She bits her bottom lip before bobbing her head up and down hesitantly.

_Present Time_

Brooke straightens out her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles that formed in on the train ride. She drops her bag on to the fluffy bed before slumping down next to it. She sinks into the bed and it's such a relief to just relax. But then she realizes that Victoria and Lucas have still been shooting up her phone and she reluctantly pulls it out of her purse. One text to her mother. That's it.

_Decided to go to elsewhere, wont see you for a while. I'll send sketches. Run the company. Brooke_

"Good enough," she mutters before looking at Lucas' number. She really should send a text, or call, just let him know that she's still alive even though she knows it's going to be too hard. So she finally decides on sending just one simple word.

_Sorry_

_Two Years Ago_

His lips are sucking on that spot on her neck that makes her go insane and she digs her nails into his shoulders, moaning in his ear. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, her skirt hiked up around her waist and his jeans are down around his ankles. They stumble through the apartment and in one swift moment, Lucas's legs hit the edge of his bed, the two tumbling down on to the mattress. "I am _so glad_ we decided to do this," he mumbles in between kisses as he unbuttons her shirt.

She laughs and nods against his lips before rippling his own shirt off. "Just remember, I got to get back out of here by 2 or Victoria's gonna give me hell."

"I'm sure I could persuade you to stay," he whispers, his fingers finding their way between her legs. She moans involuntarily, her eyes squeezing shut as he begins to work her. He stops, teasingly and she hits his arm.

"Fine, I'll stay till three."

_Present Time_

She's forgotten how relaxing life could be without a cell phone. When she went out to look at the city, she'd promptly thrown it into the Seine and began her wandering. And somehow, she's ended up in the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, whatever the hell that means. She makes a mental note to learn French, or at least more than the two years that she learned in high school since she's pretty sure she only knows what 'Oui' means. She'll need to learn how to speak at least something considering she plans on staying here a while.

She rubs her stomach unconsciously and sighs. "Excuse me?" She turns around and comes face to face with a man not much older than her.

"Um, hi," she says to the man dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a buttoned up shirt. He's well groomed and actually looked like he cared about what he looked like. She glances at his nails discreetly and then at his eyebrows and let out a sigh of relief. He's most definitely gay.

"You're Brooke Davis right? From Clothes over Bros?" She nods with a smile on her face and that's when he starts to scare her. He lets out a scream and then hugs her tight. When he finally lets go of her he jumps up and down and then recomposes himself. "Sorry. It's just, you're amazing. Your clothes are sent from the gods."

She blushes and thanks him. Small talk goes on between the two and when she mentions that she'll be staying in the city for a while, his eyes go wide. "Do you think you could show me around and stuff? I don't know anyone here and I'd rather not be a loner in this city," she says with a laugh. He nods and loops his arm in hers, walking with her through the park.

"So, what exactly has brought you to my wonderful city?" She laughs at his words and then gets quiet when she tries to formulate what to say. She simply states that boys are too stupid and her mother is the devil. She figures it'll suffice.

For now anyway.

He nods and goes into a long rant about if he weren't allergic to vaginas he'd give up on men completely. She laughs and she can't remember the last time she laughed this hard. She thinks that Orlando, who has just now introduced himself, will be a good friend for her.

But just as she continues laughing, that familiar feeling returns to her stomach and she stops walking. He asks her what's wrong and that's when it happens. She runs to the nearest bush and empties her stomach. "That is disgusting," she can hear him say and she lets out a groan in discomfort. "Are you sick?"

She laughs despite herself. "I wish."

"So what then? Are you." He stops mid way upon seeing the look on her face. "_Oh_, so _that's_ why you've escaped to Paris."

She nods, a frown on her face. "That and I am convinced my mother's the devil." He pats her back as they continue their walk.

_Two Years Ago_

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" She's hit with the question as soon as she enters her apartment. Victoria stands in the middle of her spacious living room, arms folded, her eyes already in the form of a death glare. "You're an hour late. You have to get ready for the premiere!"

She hates that she's still getting reprimanded by her mother. "I don't want to go to the premiere. Why can't I just design my clothes and be done with it?" Her mother launches into a big long speech about how appearances are everything but she honestly isn't listening. Just going through the motions of getting undressed and putting on the gown her mother has picked out for her. It's not till she goes to do her make up that her mother stops talking to let out the biggest gasp Brooke's ever heard.

"What is _that_!" Brooke looks confused but when she moves her gaze from her mother and back to herself in the mirror it's clear what her mother is referring to. The dark mark on her neck stands out against her pale skin and she quickly covers it with her hand.

"It's nothing," she mumbles quietly, reaching for her coverup and globbing it on the spot. Her mother rushes over and grabs the bottle from her, instructing Brooke to tilt her head to the side. She does as she's told and her mother works meticulously to make the mark unnoticeable. Her neck begins to hurt after about ten minutes of manipulations before she finally hears her mother let out a groan.

"You can not go to the premiere like this. You're not going to any public event as long as that thing is still obvious." She lets out an aggravated sigh before washing her hands. "And I don't want you seeing whoever gave that to you again. Honestly, this isn't good for you."

* * *

"You are amazing," Brooke says as Lucas opens the door. "Come on, we're going out for food, my treat."

"Why," he asks to everything, and she just grabs his hand and pulls him out of the apartment.

"Because the hickey you gave me got me out of going to a premiere," she answers happily. "From now on, I'm gonna make you give me one whenever I want to get out of something."

He laugh and just shakes his head at the crazy girl next to him.

_Present Time_

"Do you think any of the priests speak English here," she asks Orlando once he informs her that they'll be passing by Notre Dame. He looks at her funny and she shrugs.

"I wouldn't have pegged you as the religious type."

"I'm not," she answers. Her hand goes up to the cross around her neck and twirls it gently. Orlando raises an eyebrow in question but lets it go.

"I'm sure one of them's got to."


	4. Chapter 4

Hey everyone! This chapter's a day late because last night when I had planned to write, I went out to see The Dark Knight instead lol. I'm not too sure how much longer this'll be as I can see the end insight with the way I'm outlining it. And for everyone that's confused about when this story takes place, everything happening in the past is set during the 505 time setting. Hope that clears things up! Hope y'all enjoy!

_Present Time_

"Is she here?" Lucas opens the door to find Brooke's mother standing on the other side, her icy voice laying into him as soon she could see him.

"Excuse me Mrs. Davis?" She pushes past him and goes into his apartment, her face showing her disgust with the small dwelling.

"You're not a very good writer are you Lucas," she states factually, looking around the sorry excuse for an apartment. "Brooke?" Lucas cringes at the woman's sharp voice and follows her.

"She's not here. We were supposed to get breakfast _two days ago_ and I've only gotten one text from her." Victoria walks back into the living room and looks the blonde boy up and down. Looks at his ripped jeans and plain white T-shirt, his blonde hair messy and his face unshaven.

"You really don't know where she's at?" He shakes his head sadly and she lets out a sigh, her shoulders slumping. She brings her hand up to her head, covering her eyes. "Thank you Lucas."

She walks past him once again, this time less forceful, less determined. It's honestly one of the scariest things Lucas has ever witnessed as he stands shocked in his makeshift dinning room. "If you do find her," he says just as she reaches the door, stopping her but not turning around to make eye contact. "Can you just let me know if she's okay?"

"You're not good for her. You know that," she responds and he shrugs with a bitter laugh.

"Neither are you."

She cocks an eyebrow and then sighs. "Fair enough."

* * *

Lucas slumps down on his couch, his head in his hands. Where the hell was Brooke? His phone rings and he jumps up to answer it, praying it was the brunette that seemed to fall off the face of the earth. "Hello?"

"You sound panicked, are you okay?" He let out a strangled groan in disappointment.

"No, I'm fine Linds. What's up?"

_One Year Ago_

Brooke rolls over, panting heavily. She glances over at Lucas who is smirking amidst his ragged breathing. She hits his chest lightly, deciding half way through it takes too much effort to hit him and to try and get her breathing to normal. "You always get so cocky after sex," she says in short clipped words.

"Don't use that word now, Brooke," he manages to get out and she lets out a throaty laugh before rolling back on to his naked body. She kisses his lips before moving to his jaw line and then neck, her hands making their way down his body.

"What are you doing tomorrow," she asks in between kisses, his hands finding their way to her hips.

"Some book dinner shit. Why?" His thumbs rub circles into her skin before moving towards the chinese symbol he's been seeing more and more of.

"Victoria's going out of town," she whispers in his ear, her tongue darting out to outline his earlobe. She sits up and looks at his dirty smile and dark eyes and knows that after whatever dinner he's gonna 'drag' her to, they won't leave the bedroom till Victoria gets back.

He flips them over quickly, Brooke giggling at the movement, her legs naturally going to rest on Lucas' shoulders once she's on her back. "This is going to be a _very_ fun weekend."

_Present Time_

Brooke stands in front of the massive cathedral a month later, still trying to get up enough courage to go inside. Was it really something she should discuss with a stranger who would probably barely understand a word she said, about something so... _tainted_? She sighs and then takes a step forward, walking up the cathedral steps, taking deep breaths with each movement. She enters the cold church, her feet hitting the marble floors, her eyes searching for a man who can help. She's sure she looks like a tourist and she guesses in a way she still is. A priest or maybe a deacon, she's really not too sure, is off to the side and she debates for a moment whether or not she really wants to open up to a man she doesn't even know and probably barely understand.

The man looks her way and she turns around, clutching her purse, trying to hide her small rounded belly. She's barely made it a few feet into the church before she chickened out. That is _exactly_ why she's made her next appointment. She lets out an irritated sigh, slipping her large sunglasses down to cover her eyes when she hears someone say "Excusez-moi?" She knows it's directed towards her and she stops in her tracks even though everything in her is screaming to keep going.

"Um, oui," she says after some time, still hiding behind her glasses. The priest from before comes up to her and she fidgets for a minute before saying in her broken French, "Vous parlez anglais?" He smiles at her and points her to another man sitting in one of the many rows of chairs and she takes it as a sign that he does.

So she steps even further into the church, and sits down next to the man. She pushes her glasses back up to sit on the top of her head and stares straight in front of her. "Congratulations," he says in a deep accented voice, one that takes her by surprise. He's an older man, his hair gray and face wrinkly. "Children are one of the many gifts from God."

She keeps her gaze straight ahead, staring at the stained glass windows and statue. "This child is not a gift..."

_One Year Ago_

Lucas has been talking to Lindsey for the past _hour_ and she's starting to get incredibly bored. She hasn't seen him in thirty minutes and she can only chat with old men about the _stupidest_ shit in the world for so long. She scans the room, tapping her nails on the champagne flute in her hands and notices that for once, there's another person around her age. She smiles and excuses herself from the old couple in front of her, making her way over to the man leaning against the bar. "I have to say, I've been to quite a few of these parties and I haven't seen you here before," she says in that raspy voice of hers as she leans against the bar in front of the man who is now smiling himself.

"I just joined the publishing company," he tells her and she nods, introducing herself. Rob does the same and takes her outstretched hand into his. They talk for a good thirty minutes and she knows that she's shamelessly flirting. It's all she can do. It's fun, Rob's attractive, and it's taking her mind off of Lucas. So when the blonde brooder finally does show up, placing his hand on the small of her back, she's almost disappointed.

* * *

They walk into his apartment, Brooke's heels already off and in her hands. "We were there _way_ too long," she complains and he just laughs.

"I had to talk business," he tells her and she shrugs and holds up her hair. He unzips her dress and she wriggles out of it, letting the expensive gown lay on the floor and wrinkle. She goes into his kitchen and begins searching threw his fridge for something to munch on, Lucas coming up behind her and placing his hands on her hips. She smiles and turns around, forgetting about her hunger for food and turning her attention to Lucas. Her lips find his and she slides her tongue into his mouth before pulling away abruptly. Something's different. It's not like usual, it's not the normal she knows.

"Who did you kiss," she asks and he looks at her confused. "You kissed someone else. I can tell."

He looks down, although all he can see is Brooke's lingerie clad body, and lets out a deep breath. "Lindsey," he mutters quietly, moving his hands so that they're cupping Brooke's ass. It's probably not the best thing to do but he feels like he's done something he shouldn't.

"It's okay," she tells him even though it's not. She tilts his head back up and gets him to look at her. "It's just different." He nods slightly and he leaves a peck on her lips before letting her go. They need some space, just for right now. She returns to finding food and he goes into his room, changing out of the tux he'd been wearing.

* * *

They lie in bed, Brooke resting on her elbow as she runs her free hand through Lucas' short blonde hair. They haven't brought it up since the incident in front of the open fridge, not that whole weekend and with Victoria coming home tomorrow, she feels like she should. But she doesn't want to ruin the quiet peaceful moment between them. He's been tracing invisible patterns up and down her torso for the past few minutes and she's been staring at him, playing with his hair. "Are you going to ask me about it," he asks suddenly and she leans a bit back in surprise.

"What made you kiss her," she asks in return, still not stopping her movements, the only thing that keeps her from allowing to get in too deep. He shrugs, mumbling something about how they've gotten closer and how nice she is. "Do you like her?"

"Not enough," he says and she nods. "Are you okay?" This time she nods more assuredly, placing a beautifully fake smile on her face to convince him. He can see through it but doesn't say anything because it's not his place and he knows his actions have hurt her. So instead of saying something like he knows he should, he brings her closer and kisses it all away.

_Present Time_

His parting words are "Absent in body, but present in spirit," and Brooke has to make a conscious effort to not roll her eyes. It's not what she wants to hear, it's not what's going to be. She stands up, thanking him for his time before walking out of the church as fast as she can, going back out into the sunny city.

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes before exhaling. Six more months.

Six more months until her baby arrived.

Seven months until she'll finally went home.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey guys! So this is the final chapter and I hope y'all enjoy! Enjoy!

_One Year Ago_

Victoria's left the city once again, apparently to go see her father and Brooke couldn't have been happier when she saw her mother get on the plane that was taking her _very_ far away from her. She and Lucas were going to spend the whole week hanging out when they weren't working and it was going to be the best week she had in a long time.

She stops in front of the airport, pulling out a cigarette from her purse and lights it. Takes a long drag and holds it in before blowing out. Damn it felt good. Her cellphone rings loudly and she answers with a smile. "Hey. I just saw my mom off."

"Nice. Look, I know we were supposed to have dinner tonight but this book thing came up..." he trails off, not saying anything at all but saying enough.

"Oh, okay. That's fine. Is it another one of those get togethers?"

"Yeah but don't worry, I won't drag you to this one," he says with a laugh before quickly saying he has to go and hangs up. He didn't give her enough time to say that never once has he dragged her to one of those parties, that she's loved going with him to every single one.

She shrugs it off, figuring that maybe this time it's different and finishes her cigarette before hailing a cab.

She doesn't know it's the beginning on the end.

_Present Time_

Her long uneven nails run across the wooden bench, outlining each grain in each piece of wood. Her head rests in Orlando's lap and he plays with her now long hair, laughing at how every five minutes she rearranges her positioning. "You can't sit still anymore can you," he laughs and she rolls her eyes behind her large shades. She gazes up at the bright blue sky and can't believe how perfect Paris is. The large parks she could spend forever in, the beautiful buildings, and the perfect weather. It was a shame she only came here when her life was a mess.

"You wouldn't be able too either if you had this in you," she mutters angrily and moves so she's resting on her back. She looks up at her only friend in Paris and wonders what it is that he likes about her. She's not a good person and right now her life's a mess. It must be the clothes...

"Why do you speak like that? _How_ can you speak like that?" Brooke has learned in the three months that she's resided in Paris that Orlando came from a large family and once she told him of her views on parenting, he looked as though she crushed him. "I don't get how you can be so despondent... there is a _life_ inside you."

"I know okay, I **know**," she says, sitting up and smoothing out her brown skirt. She pulled down the tight tank top to cover her rounded belly. "You have no idea how hard it is to pretend I don't give a shit when this thing is kicking me from the inside. Or when I go and see her on that small screen..." Pregnancy has not been good on Brooke Davis. She's a complete emotional wreck most of the time and all she seems to do is complain about her back. So as she sits there, in the perfect city and perfect park on the perfect day, she tries to force back the tears that are forming quickly in her eyes. She cranes a hand back to rub her lower back and sniffs as she feels Orlando's hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry." It's simple and she knows he means it. More than she knew _he_ did.

_One Year Ago_

"How was that dinner the other night?" They're eating dinner on his couch, the tv playing in the background as she stares at him while poking at the food in her take out container. He shrugs it off, telling her she knows how it's likes and she nods. He's not telling her something and she's not asking why she didn't take her. Because deep down she knows why he's not. It's because he has Lindsey now and she's no longer needed at such parties.

Later, when she's kissing him, her legs placed on either side of her body, she smells something out of the ordinary, tastes something unfamiliar. She pulls away abruptly and looks into the dark blue eyes. "What's wrong?" She opens her mouth to tell him she knows and that he's a pussy for not telling her about Lindsey but she doesn't.

Instead she says nothing and just returns her lips to his.

_Present Time_

She stands of the bottom of the staircase that leads to the apartment she shares with Orlando and sighs heavily. She puts her hand on the railing and takes the first step up. As she got bigger, the travel up to the third story had been getting harder and harder. The lift had broken sometime around her seventh month and now as she was at her ninth, it was a nearly impossible trip. "Jeez," Brooke exhales as she continues to go up the numerous steps, her breathing getting ragged and her back aching to a point where she has to stop.

She looks up as she clutches her stomach, seeing her door just five steps away. She lets out a groan and yells for her friend and he pokes his head out of the door, an amused smile on his lips. "We need to get walkie talkies or something so that you don't get stuck halfway through and Mrs. Boulanger has to try and help you up the stairs," he laughs as he wraps his arm around her waist, his hand palming the side of her extended belly, Brooke wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Thank you," she tells him once they're up the cursed steps. She walks into the small apartment and lowers herself on to the couch.

"Don't thank me yet." He throws a magazine down next to her and she raises an eyebrow in question, wiping her forehead of the sweat that had formed during her battle with the stairs. "Turn to page twelve. I'll get you some water." She picks up the glossy magazine and flips through the pages as Orlando returns with her water. She takes a sip and then she sees it.

"Ohmigod," she says, nearly choking on the water she had just consumed. There she was. Pictures of her walking down the streets of Paris on multiple occasions. Her eyes scan the article as she realizes she is no longer in hiding.

Orlando picks up the magazine, and begins to read the article out loud as Brooke slumps against the couch, her look of shock still on her face. "The allusive Brooke Davis, designer of Clothes over Bros has been churning out design after fantastic design in her mysterious absence. Davis was last seen out and about in New York City earlier this March but has since then seemingly dropped off the planet. But a week ago, Davis was spotted roaming the streets of Paris in a very... different condition than we saw her last." He looks up at the brunette who is just shaking her head.

"My mother is going to be her tomorrow. She's probably already on a plane." She holds her head in her hands and lets out a frustrated groan. "My mother is coming and I'm pregnant and the whole _world_ knows and my back hurts and oh my god _Lucas_ probably knows..." Pretty soon it turns into a tear filled ramble and Orlando rushes to her side, patting her back.

They sit like that for a while, Brooke's head resting on his shoulder as he repeats that everything will work its self out. She nods, her salty tears running down her cheeks and then it happens. As if her day couldn't get any worse. "Shit," she grumbles.

_Ten Months Ago_

She's rummaging through his drawers, trying to find the T shirt of his that she wants to sleep in and that's when she opens it. The drawer not filled with her clothing or his. He stands in the doorway and asks her what's wrong. She lets out an almost bitter laugh. "Is this why I'm no longer needed at the dinner parties?" She holds up a clothing of her design, but one that she doesn't own. It smells of apples and cinnamon. The same apple and cinnamon smell she smelt in his bed and on some of his clothing. It belongs it the intruding taste in his mouth.

He tries to stammer out something, words that'll make it okay but she just shakes her head. "You couldn't even tell me to my face," she spits out and the walks over to where her clothes lie on the floor. She begins putting them on angrily and then laughs to herself once more. "I bet you she doesn't even know what you do with me does she?"

He shakes his head. "You can't be angry about this. This is what you wanted Brooke. Someone you could fuck around with. All we do is benefit, you said that yourself."

She nods once all her clothes are on and walks up to him. "You're right. I'm sorry." She pushes past him and slams the door shut behind her.

_Nine Months Ago_

They've barely said more than two words to each other since it happened. Doesn't mean they've stopped seeing each other but their meetings have been nothing more than ruining the sheets. He's missed his friend though and that's why she stands next to him tonight, smiling fakely to all the people around them. She's barely said a word and he knows she's still mad.

When Lindsey calls him over, he can see the fire in her eyes as her perfectly false smile tells him to go over to his girlfriend, that she's fine by herself. He walks away and over to the blonde who waves at her, and she waves back. She hates Lucas. Lindsey's a wonderful girl and he gives her a reason the despise the new woman. She travels over to the bar and as soon as her drink is placed in her hands, she finds Rob standing next to her.

They flirt once more and when she mentions that she is most definitely not with anyone, his grin grows wider. She's not sure how it happens or how long they'd been talking till it does but the next thing she knows, she's bent over the counter in the men's room, her dressed pushed up and Rob behind her.

When _he's_ done, he pulls her dress back down and waits for her to turn around to face him. "That was fun," he tells her before kissing her lips and leaving. She stays, motionless against the sinks and it's one of the stupidest things she can do. If someone sees her in there it'd be weird and potentially bad for Lucas but she can't will herself to move just yet.

Slowly, she turns back towards the mirror and straightens out her hair and dress. Reapplies her make up so that she once again looks picture perfect. Lucas comes in then and looks at her confused and shocked. "This is the men's room."

"I know."

She doesn't look at him, can't look at him. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," she says, locking her hurt eyes with his as she gives him a small smile before leaving the room.

_Present Time_

She lies in the standard hospital bed, her face sticky with sweat, her hair matted and tangled against the white pillow. Her whole body ached and she couldn't feel more horrible. She stares out the hospital window and sighs. Two hours, forty four minutes and sixteen seconds ago she'd given birth to a beautiful healthy baby girl. Dark brown hair like her own and light green eyes. Not a trace of the blue eyes of Lucas nor the deep brown like Rob's. Orlando had been next to her and nearly cried when he was holding her.

Two hours, twenty eight minutes and nineteen minutes ago she held her beautiful baby girl with a smile on her face for the last time. She passed her into the arms of the couple she'd come to know during her pregnancy, and the people who would be calling her daughter their own.

And she has yet to stop crying for two hours, twenty four minutes and three seconds.

_Nine Months Ago_

She had left without another word. And not just the bathroom but the whole party. Didn't say anything to anyone and he hadn't heard from her since their run in. So, here he sits in his apartment, alone, waiting to hear something from her. He sits, in the dark with only the tv illuminating the space around him and he still hears nothing. Not a call nor a text, nor a knock on his door.

So at 2 a.m. he finally goes into his room, crawls into bed and tries to sleep. It has to be only a few minutes later that she comes into his room, her eye make up ruined by the water coming from her eyes. She doesn't say anything, just kisses him hard. He pulls back because for once, there's something different about her. Something that's not familiar to him. Before he can say anything she says, "I'm sorry."

He nods in the complete darkness they're enveloped in and begins kissing her shoulder. "Me too," he whispers and then it's a haste of lips and clothes because they need to be with something familiar. They need to be together like they know they can be.

_Present Time_

When she wakes up, her mother is sitting in the corner of the hospital room. "Where is it," she asks passively, her eyes never once leaving the busy city outside.

"With her family," Brooke responds hoarsely. She notices her mother's eyebrows go up in shock. "Figured you'd be proud Victoria. It's all about publicity right?"

The older woman shakes her head and gets up from her chair. "When are you coming home?"

"Next month." Her mother nods and pats her hand.

"Rest up. I'll take care of everything."

* * *

They stand side by side a day later at the bottom of the stairs, her arm already around his side, his around her shoulders. They start going up, going slow as Brooke winces slightly with each step. "I'm never having children again," she grumbles and he just shakes his head.

"You know that's not true." They remain silent until the get to their apartment. "Go and get into bed. I'm going to go pick up a few things." She nods and moves slowly to the bedroom they share, crawling into the big bed and closing her eyes. It's been a long two days and she feels like she could sleep forever.

Some time later Orlando comes in to the room with a tray full of food. Water, a sandwich and some chips, along with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places the tray on her deflated lap and then climbs in next to her. She thanks him before she takes a bite of her sandwich and leans her head on his shoulder. She throws the sandwich down and takes out a cigarette. She takes a deep drag and exhales, tasting that sweet release for the first time in months. "Are you really going to leave?"

She nods. "I have to." Because now that her 'problem' is gone she can return home... if New York was still her home.

* * *

_She sits, legs bent and crossed in the window sill, running one hand through her greasy tangled hair, the other clutching a cigarette between her fingers. She wants to leave, get out of this apartment and this god damn city. Her fingers move to the cross that lays against her bare chest, outlining it softly. Ever since she moved to this city, she's attended church regularly, why she has almost no clue and it doesn't seem to help. But it seems like the only thing left that can give her some sort of hope._

_"I gotta go." She nods mindlessly, bringing the cigarette to her lips and inhaling deeply, closing her eyes and enjoying the release. He leaves, giving her an empty kiss in her hair before turning with his jacket in hand and going out the door. That's when the tears come, because she knows it has to stop. She has to leave because she can't be by him, not now, not for a while._

_Tonight, she'll pack basics, and then go to St. Patrick's in the morning and speak to Father John, trying once more to seek some sort of advice that she probably wont take and instead fly to Milan to meet her mother. The boy that's been consuming her free time will be a distant memory and everything she's screwed up will be fixed._

_She takes one last drag on her cigarette before stubbing it out, the glowing embers burning her white window sill slightly, leaving an everlasting mark on the wood._

_The last time she went to mass, the Father giving the sermon said that 'weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning'. She laughs harshly because she knows there will be nights filled with tears and heart wrenching sobs and screams that'll make her neighbors think she's being murdered before there is one solid morning of something good, something stable, something more than_ this.

_She walks into her bathroom and wonders if he's gotten back to Lindsey yet. She stares at her messy appearance before looking down at the plastic stick in the trash can. Stupid fucking plus sign. Stupid fucking Lucas Scott and stupid Brooke Davis._

She wakes up as the plane lands on the ground and she blinks a few times before looking out the small window. She stretches her arms before digging in her bag and pulling out her sunglasses, putting them on before she hears the awaited ding. She unbuckles and gets up quickly, grabbing her carryon before getting off the plane. There's no crazy paparazzi, no crazy mother, no nothing. Just her alone in a crowded airport.''

She steps outside and immediately lights up. It's sunny but cold and she didn't bring a jacket. So she stands in her long sleeved form fitting T-shirt and blue jeans, a bag on either side of her as she tries to warm herself up with the smoke she inhales. She looks to her left and notices a man in a business suit looking her up and down and she rolls her eyes. With the help of her cigarettes she lost nearly all of the weight she had piled on during her pregnancy but she still remained top heavy.

She tosses the half smoked cigarette in his direction before getting into a cab.

* * *

She walks into her apartment tiredly, dropping her bags in front of the door. She kicks off her shoes and runs a hand through her long hair, making her way to her bedroom. But she stops when she sees him sitting in her window sill. "What are you doing here," she asks quietly and he points to the numerous tabloids displayed on her coffee table.

"Where's the baby?" His voice is even and emotionless and this was not what she was expecting.

"With her family." He doesn't understand, it's evident by the look on his face and she folds her arms under her chest. "She's with her family in Paris."

It all clicks then and he stands up angrily. "You gave away our baby," he yells at her and she shakes her head.

"I don't know it she was yours." She says it even and bitter and he has to turn away from her. Can't look at who's she's become and what he's made her into.

"So you gave away _your _child?"

She shakes her head. "I didn't want the baby if she wasn't yours." He turns around, looking at her and his face softens. "But I didn't want her if she was yours either." She walks away, walks into her bedroom and shuts the door, locking it behind her. A baby didn't deserve to be brought into any of this.

A few minutes later, she hears her front door slam shut and realizes he's finally gone. She knows they won't see each other for a while, probably never again because everything between them is too complicated and too much is left unsaid. So she'll bury herself in her work, probably move out of this damn city that's filled with memories of him and the shitty situation that's lasted two years.

She thinks she'll move to Paris, probably move back in with Orlando if he'll have her and try and start over there. Work on her designs in the perfect city on another perfect day when she can be the person she used to be.

So, I know Leah figured out the ending already but I do hope I semi shocked some of you lol. I know it's probably not the ending you all wanted but I think that it's better this way. Thank you all for reading and I really hope you all enjoyed!


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